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“Sometimes, I think there really is a god, and he thoroughly enjoys watching us suffer. There’s this gorgeous woman on the couch begging to be fucked, no strings attached, and here we are, denying her,” Nash muses, jumping off the couch and walking into the kitchen as he shakes his head. The man is stunning to look at. His hair is usually styled, but right now it’s a mess, only adding to his sex appeal.
“So you are saying no?” I ask, trying not to pout. Nash felt like my last hope. He walks over, staring at me for a long moment with a serious look. I hold his hazel stare, unable to look away.
“I can teach you on one condition,” Nash says after taking a huge gulp of the bottle he must have grabbed from the kitchen stash.
“Okay, anything,” I agree eagerly.
“You can’t touch me. Not at all. Not even once.” He crosses his arms over his chest after handing the bottle to Holden, who also takes a sip, and I frown.
“How can you teach me if I can’t touch you?” I ask, and he chuckles.
“There are many ways. But those are my terms.” He shrugs, and my mind flashes back to the restaurant.
“Deal,” I say, nodding eagerly.
“You can’t be serious,” Ren snaps, glaring at Nash.
“Why not? I taught her how to properly throw a punch two years ago.” Nash shrugs, and I’m reminded of the bar fight we got into that weekend. Some guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I punched him in the face and nearly broke my hand. I never used that damn fake ID again.
“That’s not even remotely the same thing,” Ren argues. Hopping to my feet, I rush him. Using both hands to cover his mouth and hush him.
“Unless you’ve decided to fuck me, shut up,” I growl. Ren grabs my shoulders and pushes me back, making my hands drop between us.
“It’s a bad idea. Let Nash corrupt you if you want, but you should wait till you’re in love to fuck someone.” Ren looks over at Holden, who’s watching us.
“I trust you. I have most of my life. But if you don’t want to help me, I understand. I’m not going to ask you again, but you better keep your dirty words to yourself,” I snap. The look on Ren’s face tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“What dirty words?” Holden asks, but Ren ignores him.
“I think I’ve made a fool of myself enough for one night,” I murmur, heading for my room.
“Rose!” Holden snaps, but I keep walking, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Can’t even get a manwhore to fuck me,” I mumble to myself when Holden jogs after me.
“First off, only Nash is a manwhore,” he says as he catches me by my arm. “Second, if you—" He pauses. “Nash is right, it’s a bad idea.”
“So, you think I should just remain a virgin?” I guess, and Holden groans.
“No. I think you should fuck someone you care about. Someone who cares about you in return.”
“Nash cares. If he didn’t then he would have bent me over the first available surface and fucked me like I’m a stranger,” I say, making Holden swallow thickly. “I’m a senior in college and still haven’t had a one-night stand. I want to experiment to find what I like, but I can’t do that!” I growl. “I’m desperate here. In case you haven’t noticed. And I’m not going to lie and pretend like I’m not a virgin just to get what I want.” I shake Holden’s grip off of me and step back. “Look, I feel like a creep, pressuring them. They clearly do not want any part of this,” I trail off, and Holden snorts a laugh.
“You’re not pressuring them into anything, trust me.” He shakes his head, looks back down the hall, and then turns back to me. “I can’t stop you from taking sexting lessons from Nash, and maybe that’s harmless enough, but anything more than that is a bad idea, Rose.”
“Yeah, you all keep saying that.” I nod. “Maybe you’re right. I need to get ready, though,” I say, pointing up the stairs with my thumb as I take several steps back away from him.
Am I running away? Yes. But, oh well.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“It’s You” by Ali Gatie
REN
Rose is going to be the death of me. I used to think Kelly was slowly killing me, but Rose?
Listening to her beg to be fucked is something I’ve been imagining for far too long. Though, I never imagined myself denying her.
